


LEX AND CLARK: The New Adventures Of Superboy 12 - Haunted

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Established Relationship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-18
Updated: 2003-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-01 08:17:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/354287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The new adventures of an old hero.<br/>DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.  Smallville, in specific, and Superman, in general, are the property of DCCOMICS.<br/>SPECIAL THANKS to my beta, Georgia Peach.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	LEX AND CLARK: The New Adventures Of Superboy 12 - Haunted

## LEX AND CLARK: The New Adventures Of Superboy 12 - Haunted

by Catlover

[]()

* * *

Haunted 

Love is understanding.  
It's hard to believe life can be so demanding. I'm sending out an S.O.S.  
Stop me from drowning, baby I'll do the rest. 

\- "Rescue Me" performed by Madonna 

September 1, 2002 

Once again, Clark found himself in one of Lex's many cars. This time it was the Ferrari - the red one. The sun was shining and the smell of autumn was in the air. With a naughty shiver, Clark glanced at the Route 90 sign posted by the side of the road, by his side of the car. Everything was perfect. There were no distractions. There were no loud noises. There were no inconvenient people. No fathers appeared out of nowhere. Nothing to get in the way of how Lex was kissing him now. 

Eagerly, Clark kissed back. Running his hands up and down Lex's lean chest, he paused more than once to feel Lex's stiff nipples through the silk shirt he wore. As Clark rubbed harder, pressing against the sharp points, Lex opened his mouth in a silent scream. Grabbing at Clark's young body, Lex cocked his head to the side as Clark started his slow descent over his chin, bound for his neck. 

Holding Lex tightly with his left arm, Clark used his right hand to unbutton Lex's shirt. Brushing the material away, Clark descended further, sucking at the center of his chest. Tongue tracing the fine red hairs of his chest, Clark followed the path they created. At Lex's belt, Clark paused. 

This was where it usually ended - with worship and wet underwear. 

' _Not this time_ ,' swore Clark as he lowered his hand to Lex's belt. 

Fumbling with the thick leather, Clark flinched as Lex's hand covered his. Refusing to look at his face, Clark rested his cheek on Lex's stomach and wrapped his arms around his waist. Placing gentle kisses on his skin, Clark could feel Lex's flesh dance under his lips and smiled. 

Soon, hands appeared on his shoulders, pushing Clark back, pushing Clark away. Shaking his head, Clark squeezed Lex's waist tighter but the hands were insistent and soon Clark was reclining back against the passenger seat. With his eyes closed, Clark didn't see Lex reach over, but he felt silky smooth skin as Lex rubbed his thumb slowly over his flushed cheek. 

At first, Lex reveled in the rich glow of Clark's tanned skin. Then, he pulled Clark into another series of deep, probing kisses. Reaching down, he undid his pants before reaching over and expertly unfastening Clark's belt buckle. Unbuttoning Clark's jeans, Lex smiled when Clark moaned as he pulled down the zipper. 

With his right hand, Lex pulled out his own erection. With his left hand, he repeated the action on Clark. Holding them both in his hands, he started to pump both organs in unison. Concentrating on pressure and speed, on the gathering of skin present on the underside of both their penises, he pushed Clark's moans to the back of his mind. As the pleasant sounds echoed through his mind, he could feel Clark's hands grip the flesh of his arms. Getting drunk off the pain induced from the pressure Clark applied to his arms, Lex pumped faster, holding himself and Clark in an even tighter grip. Slipping his thumb over the tip on each upstroke, he spread their pre-cum over the tip of their erections and with each down stroke, along both shafts. 

Clark's sixteen-year-old body couldn't last much longer. Especially since, at that very moment, a man of particular skill and experience was driving his young, untrained body crazy. As a result, he didn't last long at all. In the middle of a very slippery down stroke, Clark felt the pressure that long ago settled in his abdomen slip down to his balls, causing them to pull up against his body. A second later, every muscle he had felt like it was trying to draw into his groin as he bucked his hips up against Lex's tight fist. 

Suddenly, Clark's body seized. Every muscle flexed for a few seconds as he shuddered uncontrollably. For a few seconds, the whole universe existed only so far as his groin, but then the intensity melted away and the universe expanded back to its original scope. 

As a sweet serenity flowed into his body, Clark started shaking violently. Letting go of Lex's arms, Clark kissed his evil grin as he reached down and pried Lex's hand off his too sensitive, softening flesh. 

The continued rocking of Lex's body alerted Clark to an urgent situation. Quickly, Clark placed his right hand over Lex's rapidly pumping hand. A quick, wordless exchange took place during which Lex placed his left hand on the seatback, his right hand on the steering wheel and reclined against the seatback. Lex's head fell back, bouncing off the leather upholstery as he pumped his hips in a counter beat to Clark's clenched fist. 

After only a few seconds, Lex's body reacted to Clark's ministrations. In a manner similar to the way Clark's body reacted to his handiwork, Lex's entire body tensed up moments before his body produced wave upon wave of vibrations, leaving him shaking like a leaf as Clark pulled his hand away. 

Then, the alarm went off. 

Sharp and repetitious like torture, the evil blaring invaded Clark's heavenly dream. Cursing under his breath, he reached out from under his blanket, trying to remember not to break the thing when he pushed the button. Extending his hand, Clark pushed down where the alarm should have been, but felt only air. 

For a second, he searched around with his hand alone. Finally, Clark pushed the quilt from his face. Yawning, he stretched out for a second before looking over at what should have been his bedside lamp and instead was the top of his bookcase. Closing his eyes, Clark shook his head hard a couple times. Reopening his eyes, he still saw the top of the bookcase. Perplexed, he tried to sit up, but stopped when his head collided with the ceiling. 

Suddenly, reality struck and it struck hard. Upon realizing that he was floating, Clark fell. Slamming against the tired springs of his bed, he bounced more than once. Grasping the mattress for dear life, he looked up at the space where he was just floating. For a moment, Clark was afraid to let go of the mattress for fear of flying away, but eventually, he let go of the bed and sat up. 

Swinging his feet over the edge, he was relieved to feel the carpet under his feet. Standing up, he patted his chest and waited to see what would happen. One minute passed. Two minutes passed. Nothing happened. Exhaling loudly, Clark relaxed. 

"Clark! Wake up, your Father is already out in the fields," yelled Martha, her commanding voice reaching Clark all the way from the kitchen. 

Jumping with surprise, Clark pressed his hand over his chest. Feeling his rapidly beating heart, he closed his eyes and thought, ' _Get a hold of yourself_.' Looking upward with apprehension, Clark shifted uncomfortably due to the clammy cum plastered over his groin and mused, ' _Of course_ , _that could have been the problem_.' 

\-- <{()}>\-- 

September 3, 2002 

4:00p.m. 

Smallville High 

"Hey Justin, wait up!" shouted Clark. 

Turning around, Justin stopped at the base of the front steps and waited for Clark to catch up to him. Once Clark stood beside him, Justin looked up and asked, "What's up, Clark?" 

Darting his eyes about, Clark whispered, "I have something I wanted to talk to you about, but I can't talk about it here." 

Eyeing Clark suspiciously, Justin looked around and replied, "Are you being followed or something? You seem very nervous." 

Shaking his head, Clark answered, "No. It's nothing like that. I'm not being stalked or anything." 

"Okay. Um. Follow me," said Justin with a shrug. 

Together, Justin and Clark walked to the back of the school. There, Justin jumped onto the bleachers facing the track and field area. Football and cheerleader try-outs took place in the distance, but other than that, the place was deserted. Scooting across one aisle, Justin sat down in the center of a long bench, dropping his backpack on the bench to his right. Looking over at Clark who still stood on the grass, Justin patted the seat to the left of him. 

Smiling nervously, Clark stepped onto the bleachers and made his way over to Justin. Slipping his backpack off his shoulder, Clark placed the bag at his feet. Sitting down heavily, Clark took a deep breath and said, "I've been having some strange things happen with my powers, lately. It's kind of freaking me out." 

Leaning forward, Justin turned suddenly serious as he placed his elbows on his knees and replied, "Define strange." 

Glancing over at Justin, Clark paused for a second before saying, "Strange as in I'm not controlling them. It's like they have a mind of their own." 

Nodding, Justin offered, "Something, I'm familiar with." 

Looking directly at Justin, Clark asked, "It's been happening to you, too?" 

Nodding, Justin glanced at Clark and answered, "Yes, it's been happening. A lot. I get so tired, Clark. It's getting harder to keep the swirling forces calm. Especially, if things are really intense, like if I'm, y'know, alone with Chloe. Then control is a thing of the past." 

Blushing, Clark remembered floating after waking from the dream. Licking his lips, Clark said, "Yeah. I know what you mean." 

Squinting, Justin lurched back and asked, "Excuse me? Since when have you been getting some?" 

Looking down, Clark thought fast and replied, "Since this weekend. Nothing happened at the time, but later my powers went haywire." 

Laughing hard, Justin quipped, "Let me guess - the sheets were sticky that fine morning." 

Nodding, Clark said, "Yeah, you could say that." 

"So, I guess the girl's a tease. Got your engine revved, but forgot to turn it off again," remarked Justin. 

Still looking at the ground, Clark answered, "Sort of." 

"Yeah, I had that happen. More than once. I'd wake up the next morning and everything not nailed down would be zooming around me. I'll tell ya, there were mornings I was glad my Mother never comes in my room." 

"You spoke in the past tense. Is there a way to stop this? Because my Mother does come into my room and I don't want her seeing this," asked Clark. 

"Well, the only cure I found was doing it. Get the frustration out. Cause that's what it is, y'know - Frustration. It's like when you're mad or excited. The frustration is just another intense feeling. It's melting away the holds you put in place. Once you do it, the frustration's gone. At least, for a while." 

Nodding, Clark pondered making his dream a reality as he said, "Thanks for the advice." 

"No problem," replied Justin. 

Suddenly smirking, Justin asked, "So, what's her name?" 

"Who?" inquired Clark. 

"What do you mean who? The girl who turned your key. Who is she?" said Justin with a conspiratorial gleam in his eye. 

Running his hand through his hair, Clark replied, "Um. I can't tell you that." 

Looking down, Justin frowned as he said, "Oh." 

Then, Justin's eyes grew large and he turned toward Clark and asked, "It wasn't Lana, was it?" 

"No!" exclaimed Clark. After a breath, Clark continued, "Lana's just a friend." 

Looking back down, Justin frowned again, then shrugged and said, "Oh. Okay. It's cool." Standing up, Justin continued, "Dude, I gotta get home. Homework. That whole thing." 

Nodding, Clark stood up and started scooting to the end of the aisle. Looking back at Justin, Clark concurred, "I hear ya, man. I can't believe they assigned so much the first day." 

Slapping Clark lightly on the shoulder, Justin said, "Oh well. No one ever promised me that life would be fair." 

Jumping to the dirt, Justin and Clark walked back to the front of the school. At the front steps, Justin and Clark stopped in their tracks. A good fifteen feet in front of them stood a pair of football players involved in an act of obvious intimidation. The diminutive sophomore who was the focus of their bullying was a good foot shorter than his tormenters and clearly scared out of his mind. Backed up against a wall, the boy stared wide-eyed and helpless up at the two football players. Laughing cruelly, one of the football players reached out and traced a "S" on his victim's chest and said, "Y'know what, Brian? I bet a bright red "S" would look great right here. What do you think, Dave? Is our man Brian here scarecrow material?" 

Grabbing a hold of Brian's t-shirt, Dave hauled the terrified boy closer. In a menacing whisper, Dave replied, "Oh yeah, Chris. Brian is definitely in the running." 

Standing on the front steps, Clark flinched. Beside him, Justin remarked, "That reminds me. Who was the scarecrow, last year?" 

Continuing to look directly at the violent scene before him, remembering the way the ropes dug into his arms on that cold October night, Clark thought, ' _Me_ ,' but answered, "Nobody knows. A past scarecrow showed up bent on vengeance. He killed a few people and the news sort of overshadowed last year's scarecrow." 

Looking away from the school, Justin began to head away from the school. A couple steps passed before Justin looked back in time to see Clark take his first step toward Dave and Chris. Running back to Clark, Justin surrounded him in a mentally projected force field. Reaching through the barrier, Justin grabbed him by the arm and said, "Clark, don't. This isn't any of our business." 

Training his intense glare on Justin's face, Clark disagreed, "No, Justin, this is our business. This whole scarecrow thing is wrong and we have the ability to stop it. That makes it our business." 

Still holding Clark's arm, Justin looked over at Dave and Chris. Spreading his finger's wide, Justin let go of Clark and took a step back, taking his force field with him. Silently, Justin watched as Clark ran down the steps, bent on confrontation. 

Stopping few feet from Chris and Dave, Clark ordered, "Leave him alone." 

Glancing over their shoulders, Dave and Chris laughed. 

Turning back to Brian, Dave said, "Get lost, Kent." 

Smirking, Chris concurred, "Yeah, Clark. Wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you." 

With a chuckle, they refocused their attention on Brian. For his part, Brian looked past his harasser's terrifying bulk, meeting Clark's eyes. With a woeful expression, Brian begged him for help. In response, Clark stepped up, grabbed Chris by the arm and repeated, "I said, leave him alone." 

While Dave kept Brian pinned to the wall, Chris turned around. Smiling widely, Chris said, "What are you gonna do, Kent? Sic your rich friend on us." 

"No, I'll do this," said Clark as he threw Chris aside with a casual flick of his wrist. Reaching out with his left hand, he seized Dave by the right shoulder. Spinning Dave to the left, Clark slammed him against the wall, causing the back of his head to snap back against the plaster with an audible crack. As Dave slid down the wall, Clark looked down and told Brian, "Run." 

Wasting no time, Brian complied. 

"What the hell did you do to him, Kent?" cried Chris as he knelt beside Dave. Slapping Dave's face, Chris shook him. "Dave? Dave?" 

Clark's proud face withered. The brilliant glow of his eyes dulled. Backing away quickly, Clark yelled, "I'll go get the nurse." 

As he ran up the stairs, Clark glanced at Justin quickly before disappearing into the school. A few minutes later, Clark returned with the school nurse in tow. Gasping at the sight of Dave's conscious body, Mrs. Rivers ran down the stairs as fast as her 54 year-old legs could carry her. Kneeling down beside Dave, Mrs. Rivers opened his eyes, flashing a penlight inside. Something she saw comforted her because she let out a heavy sigh and proceeded to take his pulse. After a minute passed, she pulled out a tube of smelling salts and waved them under Dave's nose. 

Instantly, Dave roused. Recoiling weakly from the foul-smelling substance, Dave moaned loudly. Kneeling beside Mrs. Rivers, Chris asked, "Is he alright, Mrs. Rivers?" 

With Chris' assistance, Mrs. Rivers pulled Dave up to a seated position. Slowly, she waved her right index finger in front of Dave's eyes. Carefully, she watched Dave as he followed her finger. After a few seconds, she stopped and smiled. Reaching around to feel the goose egg sized bump on the back of Dave's head, Mrs. Rivers replied, "I think so, but I want to have his parents take him to the hospital. Make sure there's no concussion." 

From the double door school entrance, the stern voice belonging to Principal Kwan rang out, "What is going on here?" 

Without pause, Chris pointed his finger at Clark and said, "He slammed Dave against the wall." 

Pointing right back at Chris, Clark contended, "Only because you two were beating up on Brian." 

Stepping between Clark and Chris, Kwan held up his hands to silence them. "Enough." Turning to Chris, Kwan asked, "Brian, who?" 

Chris' face paled as he stuttered, "I don't know what Kent is talking about. We weren't doing nothing." 

"Liar," yelled Clark. 

In a louder voice, Kwan once again said, "Enough." Looking at Clark, Kwan asked, "Brian, who?" 

"Brian Dimov," answered Clark. 

"A sophomore," observed Kwan. 

Nodding, Clark replied, "Yes, sir." 

Looking over at Dave and Chris, Principal Kwan ordered, "I want all three of you boys in my office, right now." 

"Aw, come on. We're the victims here," cried Chris. 

Looking back at Chris, Kwan stated, "I very much doubt that, but it doesn't really matter. This school has a zero tolerance policy on fighting. So, let's go." 

Turning toward Clark, Kwan's eyes softened. Imploring Clark to not give him trouble with his eyes, Kwan whispered, "You too, Clark." 

Nodding, Clark turned toward the double doors. Halfway up the stairs, Clark noticed Justin standing there. For a moment their eyes met before Clark bowed his head and entered the school. 

In the principal's office, Clark, Chris and Dave sat side by side. Backs pressed stiffly against the wooden seatbacks, they listened to Principal Kwan's lecture. "Fighting of any kind is unacceptable on school grounds. It's unacceptable anywhere, but especially here. This is a school. Violent actions are disruptive to the learning environment and will not occur at my school. You are here to learn, not to tear each other limb from limb." 

"No excuse is good enough. Mainly, because turning to violence first is indicative of an unimaginative mind and a weak character. It is the low road. It is something you should aspire to be better than." 

"Boys, someday, you will not be protected by the walls of this school or the tenderness of your years. Someday, you will be men and you must learn now that people will judge you by the manner in which you assert yourself." 

Watching Kwan lean against his desk with his hands gripping the wooden edge, Clark murmured, "Yes, sir." 

Beside Clark, Chris laughed under his breath. 

In a flash, Kwan was leaning over Chris' suddenly frightened figure. "Mr. Bowen, I am not playing with you. I know that previous principals coddled the football team, but I will not be carrying out that tradition." 

Stepping back, Kwan continued, "You are all suspended for one day. As such, you two will not be playing in the first game. If I see anymore of this type of behavior from either of you, you won't play at all this year." 

Centering on Dave and Chris' contrary expressions, Kwan emphasized, "Football is an extra-curricular activity. As such, it is a privilege that can be taken away. Now, go wait in the reception. Your parents have already been called and you are to wait until they come to collect you. Now." 

Meekly, Chris and Dave stood up. Walking to the door, they both threw malicious glances at Clark as they walked out of the room. Principal Kwan followed them to the door where he watched them sit down in the reception before stepping back into his office and closing the door. 

Quietly, Kwan walked over to his desk. Leaning against it as he had before, Kwan spoke softly to Clark, "Clark, I wish there was something I could do. I have a feeling you had the best of intentions, just like you did with Justin. Of course, Justin walked away from that without medical intervention." 

Looking at Clark, Kwan observed, "I feel indebted to you, Clark. Justin came to my home that day intending to do much worse than he did. Because of you, I was not harmed." 

Interrupting Principal Kwan, Clark pointed out, "Because of me, your son is in prison." 

Shaking his head, Kwan pushed away from his desk. Crossing the room, Kwan sat beside Clark and said, "No, Clark, that was Danny's fault." 

Placing his right hand on Clark's left shoulder, Kwan offered a bit of advice. "Watch yourself, Clark. You are associating with dangerous people and I fear they are affecting you." 

Patiently, Clark waited for Principal Kwan to finish before saying, "I thank you for the advice, Mr. Kwan, but it's not what you think at all." 

Nodding, Kwan stood up. Slowly, he walked over to the door to his office and opened it. Looking back at Clark, Kwan said, "Very well. Please wait in reception for your parents, Clark." 

\--<{()}>\-- 

Later That Night 

Kent Farm 

With enough strength to rattle the frame, Jonathan Kent slammed the front door shut. Stomping into the house, he didn't even pause as he threw his keys on the table by the door. Walking briskly, he headed directly for the living room. There, he stood facing the mantel, staring at the pictures of his son. With his hands in his pant pockets, Jonathan listened to the cautious sounds made by his family as they entered the living room. 

Turning around, Jonathan roughly ran his hand through his hair. Taking in a deep breath, he held it for a few seconds before letting it out slowly. Finally, he looked at his son and found all the calming procedures he'd just committed were completely useless as he started shouting. "Do you have any idea what you could have done to that boy? You could have killed him. You could have paralyzed him. Not to mention the risk you put yourself and this family in by using your powers in public." 

Shaking his head, Clark countered, "No. You will not make me feel bad about what I did. I agree I could have done things differently, but I had to do something. They plan on making him the next scarecrow. Do you realize that? Do you even care? God, people in this town see it happening every year and do nothing. They do nothing to stop it. Well, I'm not like anyone else and I refuse to be like everyone else when it comes to this. 

Staring in disbelief at Clark, Jonathan argued, "It's more than that, Clark. Do you realize what you have done to your future?" 

"You didn't answer me," said Clark, defiantly. 

"What did you say?" asked Jonathan. 

Looking his Father dead in the eye, Clark stated, "I said, you didn't answer my question: Do you even care?" 

The anger in Jonathan's face faltered. Looking down for a second, Jonathan managed to meet his son's eyes again as he replied, "I can't be thinking about other men's sons. I can only think of my own. This suspension will show on your permanent record. You can practically throw any thought you had of a scholarship out the window, right now, Clark. I can't afford to send you to college. A scholarship was the only way you were going to get there and now that's gone." 

"Not necessarily," countered Clark. 

"It that so," said Jonathan sarcastically. 

"That's right. I'm sure I can still get the LuthorCorp scholarship," argued Clark. 

Throwing up his hands, Jonathan stated, "Lex Luthor. Of course. You plan on playing lapdog to a rich man for the rest of your life, Clark? Do you? You think you can count on Luthor's money to be there to protect you, but it won't be. Lex Luthor is just like his Father, Clark. He will promise you the moon and the stars until he gets what he wants or gets bored. Then, he'll throw you aside, forgotten and a lot worse off." 

As Jonathan raged, Clark remembered his time on that Scarecrow post. As his Father flung insults, Clark recalled how it was Lex who found him, untied him. The very man being torn apart was the man who rescued Clark, but he was more than that. Lex was so much more than that, especially now. So, in response to his Father's tirade, Clark began one of his own. "I don't care what you think of Lex because it doesn't affect what I think of him. And, all this talk of college. You talk about college like it's some way for me to get out, but look at you. You went to Met U., Dad, and where did it get you?" 

Off to the side, silent throughout this exchange, Martha Kent finally found her voice. "Clark. Joseph. Kent. I never want to hear you speak that way, ever again. This man is your Father and you will show him some respect. Is that understood? Is it?" 

Silenced by his Mother's anger, Clark nodded. "Yes, Ma'am." 

Trembling with rage, Martha whispered, "I do realize the scarecrow happens every year and I realize you care very deeply about it, but there are better ways to handle this kind of problem, Clark. You've always been so strong and we've tried to teach you control, not to protect other people, but to protect you. You, Clark. We taught you to hide not because we're ashamed, but because we were afraid of the kind of people who would come for you and what they would do to you when they found you. You need to consider more than just one moment in time. You need be cautious of what you do because we have done all this so that there can be a future for you." 

Bent beneath his Mother's quiet fury, Clark could only nod in response. 

Wrapping her arms around herself, Martha looked down at the carpet as she commanded, "Now, go to your room and I better not find you outside of it until your Father and I come to tell you what your punishment is." 

With his shoulders hunched over, Clark walked over to the staircase. With his foot on the first step, Clark turned toward his Mom. Before he could speak a word, Martha said in a strong, clear voice, "Go." 

Using super speed, Clark raced up the stairs. He didn't stop until he closed his bedroom door behind him. 

A little over an hour later, Martha and Jonathan entered Clark's room. In a steady, emotionless voice, Jonathan told Clark he was grounded for the next four weeks. No going over to a friend's house. No hanging out with Pete. No phone calls. No Lex. No Talon. Not even for deliveries. Clark could only go to school and go home. That was it. That was all. 

After Jonathan finished he asked, "Do you have any questions?" 

In response, Clark shook his head. 

Nodding once, Jonathan motioned to Martha that it was time to leave. Grabbing the doorknob, Jonathan started to pull the door closed behind them when he stopped and looked back at Clark. "Be ready at first light. Since you're not going to school tomorrow, you can help me with the back forty." 

With that said, Jonathan closed the door. 

\--<{()}>\-- 

September 4, 2002 

Kent Barn 

"Clark?" 

Clark turned away from his telescope long enough to see Lana ascend to the top of the stairs. Nodding at her, Clark turned back to his telescope. 

The brush-off took Lana by surprise. With a curious expression, Lana walked over to Clark and placed a hand on his back. With slow circles, Lana whispered, "I talked to Justin when you didn't come to school today. I know what happened." 

Pulling away from his telescope completely. Clark stood up, feeling Lana's hand descend to his waist. Reaching up with his left hand, he took her hand in his and gently squeezed it. Wordlessly, he walked to the couch, pulling her along as he did. Sitting down heavily, he drew her down on the sofa beside him. 

Kneeling on the comfortable cushions, Lana placed her right hand on Clark's shoulder while running the fingertips of her left hand along his brow. In hushed tones, Lana asked, "It was the scarecrow?" 

First, Clark flinched. Then, he barely nodded. 

Soothingly, Lana ran her fingertips down the right side of Clark's face. Cupping his cheek in the palm of her hand, she sighed, "Oh Clark." 

In her intent to comfort, Lana wound her arms around Clark's neck. With her head on his shoulder, she recalled, "I can't believe I was a part of all that once. Miss Cheerleading Homecoming Queen." 

Haltingly, Clark started to rub his chin against the top of her head. Quietly, he assured, "But you left it behind." 

Pulling away, Lana ran her left hand down his chin. "Not before it touched you." 

Shaking his head, Clark said, "I thought I was the one with the guilt trip." 

Laughing, Lana agreed, "I know. I think you're rubbing off on me." 

Together, they laughed. Lana laughed so hard she had to close her misty eyes. With a jolt of surprise, Lana realized Clark's arms were wrapping around her, drawing her closer. Soon, she could feel his head on her shoulder and she couldn't resist the urge to place her hand on the back it. Closing her eyes, Lana drank in the moment, wanting so much for it to be real. But her mind knew what her heart did not. 

With good sense, she pushed away. Looking into his sad eyes, Lana said, "Maybe, if I'd broken up with Whitney when I first felt the urge. Maybe, if I figured out a way not to be so shallow just a little bit sooner. You wouldn't have this to haunt you." 

Shaking his head, Clark replied, "No. It wasn't your fault, Lana. And Whitney..." 

"Isn't you," interjected Lana. Placing her fingers to Clark's lips, Lana continued, "He's coming home for Thanksgiving, y'know. I'm still not sure how I'm going to face him." 

"Do you love him?" asked Clark. 

"He loves me," answered Lana. 

Squinting, Clark looked at Lana. "That's not what I asked." 

"I know," replied Lana. "But it's the only answer I have to give. After all, not everyone gets to be with the man of their dreams." 

Suddenly, an angry feminine voice rang out, "What is going on in here?" 

Pulling away from each other, they jumped off the couch. Standing side by side, Lana fidgeted as Martha Kent leaned over the railing and said, "He's up here, Jonathan." 

Soon, heavy footfalls repeated up the stairs until Jonathan Kent saw the unpleasant scene. Angry, he marched up to Clark and asked, "What's the meaning of this?" 

Shrugging, Clark answered defiantly, "I was just talking to a friend." 

"You're grounded or do you not remember that?" inquired Jonathan. 

"How could I forget?" Clark replied. 

From behind Jonathan, Martha said, "Lana, I think it's time for you to go home, now." 

Nodding, Lana stared at the tension in the room. Shivering, she said, "Yes, Mrs. Kent." 

Turning to Clark, she whispered, "See you around, Clark." 

Clark nodded, but didn't look at her. He was too busy trying to win a staring match with his Father. 

After Lana left the barn, Jonathan railed, "I don't know what's gotten into you lately, Clark but it had better stop." 

Shaking his head, Clark sarcastically asked, "Or what?" 

Disbelief shadowed Jonathan Kent's features. "What did you say?" 

"You heard me. What are you going to do? Ground me again?" said Clark. 

For a second, Jonathan just stood there, chewing on his bottom lip. Then, he was stomping away with slumped shoulders and a shaking head. 

As Jonathan departed, Martha watched as guilt flashed across Clark's face. She was at a loss. Helpless, she followed her son as he sat down on the sofa. The ire in her heart died as she saw him drop his face into his hands. Wringing her hands, Martha carefully approached Clark. Sitting beside him, she bit her lip when he flinched at her touch. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Clark, what's going on? Why are you so angry?" 

Once again, Clark felt the anger of that long ago day. He recalled how he'd told Whitney, "Don't mess with me right now." His face hot and burning, he remembered how the jocks laughed when Whitney put the necklace on him. Sitting up straight, Clark rubbed his right hand against his chest and recalled how the meteor rock burned against his skin, but by then all he could do was lean forward on the scarecrow post and let it dangle as far from his body as possible. 

Again, Martha reached out to her boy. Again, he cringed in response. 

From the house, the shrill ringing of the telephone could be heard. Standing up, Martha hesitated before turning away from Clark. As she opened the barn door, the ringing stopped. By the time she reached the kitchen door, all that remained of the phone call was Jonathan slamming down the receiver. Closing the door quietly, Martha watched as Jonathan quickly stomped up the stairs without saying goodnight. 

\--<{()}>\-- 

One Minute Earlier 

Luthor Castle 

Leaning back in his chair, Lex flipped open his cell phone with a smile. Calmly, he punched in the Kent's phone number. Bringing the phone to his ear, he waited patiently for someone to answer the phone. Silently, he hoped the person who picked up the phone would be Martha Kent. 

For the thousandth time in his life, Lex realized fate did not like him as Jonathan Kent's brusque voice came over the line, "Hello?" 

Grimacing, Lex swallowed once before he said, "Mr. Kent. Hello. May I speak to Clark?" 

"no. You. MAY. NOT!" 

The sharp slamming down of the phone stung Lex's ear. Turning off his phone, Lex slowly shook hearing back into his head. As he placed the phone gently down on his desk, Lex whispered, "Well, that was just rude." 

\--<{()}>\-- 

September 5, 2002 

Kent Farm 

"Mrs. Kent?" asked Lex as he stood outside the kitchen door. 

Turning around suddenly, Martha stared open mouthed at Lex. With her hands braced on the counter behind her, Martha said, "Lex. I don't think it's such a good idea for you to be here." 

"I tried to call," offered Lex by way of an explanation. 

Bowing her head, Martha pulled her hands forward until she was clutching them tightly in front of her waist. "I know." 

Looking up, Martha returned Lex's hopeless expression. As if lost, she looked around the kitchen before crossing the room quickly and unlocking the screen door. Looking about the farm as Lex crossed the threshold, Martha exhaled loudly when she didn't see Jonathan anywhere nearby. 

At first, she was uncomfortable in her own kitchen. Then, she stepped gingerly to the right and with a sweep of her hand offered Lex a seat at the kitchen table. 

Quietly, they sat. After a moment, Lex leaned forward and asked, "Mrs. Kent, what happened? I heard Clark didn't go to school yesterday. Is he okay?" 

Nodding, Martha answered, "Yes, he's fine. Or, at least, he isn't sick." 

Narrowing his eyes, Lex asked, "What do you mean?" 

Tears shimmering in her eyes, Martha replied, "Clark was suspended from school." 

"What? Why?" exclaimed Lex. 

"He beat up two boys," said Martha. Looking at Lex, she confided, "This isn't like him, but he's angry. Oh Lex, he's so angry. It's not like him. The other night, he said horrible things to his Father. I've never seen Clark act with such disrespect." 

Interlacing his fingers, Lex rested his hands on the table. Taking in a deep breath, Lex asked, "What was the fight at school about?" 

Looking down at her hands, Martha traced the dark lines in the wooden tabletop as she whispered, "The scarecrow. Clark saw two football players picking on some sophomore. He was trying to do something honorable by protecting that boy, but he went about it the wrong way. He hurt one of the football players. He left the boy unconscious. As a result, he was suspended from school for one day." 

As Martha spoke, Lex watched her. He saw the severe lines surrounding her mouth and how her lips quivered with each word. He noticed the trembling of her fingers and the barely restrained tears in her eyes. He searched her face more than once. In it, he found sadness. He found hopelessness, too, but he didn't find understanding. That was when it dawned on him that Mrs. Kent didn't know about Clark being last year's scarecrow. She didn't know because Clark never told her. Looking across the table at her pain filled expression, Lex wondered if it was his secret to tell. 

"He's been angry ever since the fight. It's just not like him. He's always been a good boy. He did his chores. He brought home good grades and never got in trouble. Now, he walks around with a permanent black cloud over his head. He won't tell me what's wrong, but I can tell something is eating at him," lamented Martha. 

Martha's words made up Lex's mind. Leaning forward, he grasped one of her shaking hands. He licked his lips more than once before he said, "Mrs. Kent, I think I may know what's bothering Clark. Perhaps, if you knew, you would better understand why he's acting the way he is." 

"What is it, Lex?" Leaning toward him, Martha waited for Lex to continue with baited breath. 

"What is he doing here?" 

Together, Lex and Martha looked at the kitchen door. There stood an angry Jonathan Kent. 

Instantly, Lex recoiled from Martha and pushed away from the table. Standing up, he nodded at Martha once before turning toward the kitchen door. "I was just leaving, Mr. Kent." 

Jonathan pulled open the screen door and waited. As Lex passed him, Jonathan sneered, "Clark is grounded for the next four weeks. If you respect this family as much as you claim, then you won't try to contact him behind our backs before his punishment is over." 

Silently, Lex agreed with a nod. Frowning, he glanced back at Mrs. Kent one last time before walking away. 

Desperately, Martha followed Lex's retreating form. In his departure, she saw her last chance to reach Clark disappear. As she watched Lex slip into his car, Martha knew she would never know now what was bothering Clark and it was all Jonathan's fault. 

\--<{()}>\-- 

October 1, 2002 

Talon Cafe 

"Here's a cup of coffee for our newly liberated friend," said Lana, cheerfully, as she placed a steaming cup on the table in front of Clark. 

"Thanks, Lana," replied Clark as he eagerly reached for the coffee. 

"Damn, Clark. I've never seen a man so happy to see a cup of coffee before in my life," laughed Justin. 

Snorting into a half-swallow, Clark coughed a couple times before saying, "Well, I couldn't get fresh Talon coffee at school, could I?" 

Looking around, Clark asked, "Where is Pete anyway?" 

"Are you kidding?" asked Chloe. "Mr. Ross pulls more disappearing acts lately than you do. It seems like the Governor's campaign is the center of his world right now." 

Shrugging, Clark thought as he reached for his mug, ' _Yeah_ , _but I thought he was my friend_.' Bringing the ceramic edge to his lips, he savored the bittersweet smell. He sat perfectly still for a moment before letting his head fall back onto the back of the sofa on which he sat. Exhaling loudly, Clark sighed, "It feels so good to be free again." 

Giggling wildly, Chloe joked, "I've heard the inside can do horrible things to a man, Clark. Your thoughts." 

Stretching his arms over his head, Clark let out an airy chuckle. Lowering his arms, Clark leaned toward Chloe and said with a perfectly serious tone, "It's all true. The horror of it all. My God, the horror." 

The group erupted with laughter. From the seat to the right of Clark, Marcus slapped a strong hand on Clark's shoulder and said, "Well, you took it like a man. Now, you've done your time. Paid your debt." 

"Yeah, Clark. You've made your way through the Smallville and Kent Family justice systems and are now returned as a rehabilitated, productive member of society. So, what are your plans?" asked Lana as she slid onto the sofa arm to Clark's left. Absently, she tapped out a beat on her left thigh with her serving tray as she slid an arm around Clark's neck. Quickly, Lana hugged Clark, allowing herself the simple pleasure of smelling his hair before pulling away. 

Shrugging easily under Lana's weight, Clark tried to hide his sigh of relief when she finally let go of him. Looking up at Lana, Clark answered, "Not sure. I don't think I can go back to old routines after being on the inside for so long." 

Across from Clark, Justin leaned back against the cushions. Drawing Chloe closer to him, Justin offered, "Hey, buddy, I'm sorry for not backing your play that day. I know I've said this before, but maybe if I'd done something." 

Shaking his head, Clark brushed some of Lana's hair away from his face, as he assured, "No, Justin. It's okay. No point in both of us being suspended. Forget about it, okay?" 

Nodding, Justin said, "Okay." 

Meeting Clark's eyes, he saw understanding there and nodded sharply once more. "Okay." 

Suddenly, Justin looked past Clark and smirked. Beside him, Chloe bowed her head as she snuck impish peeks at something just past Clark's shoulder. Bringing her right hand up, Chloe couldn't resist chewing on her index finger as a wide smile covered her mouth. 

At the same moment, a pair of manicured hands covered Clark's eyes. 

In response, Clark sat straight up, shoving Lana aside in the process. Twisting his head from side to side, he finally managed to turn all the way around. Facing his attacker, a broad smile filled Clark's face a couple seconds before he reached up and drew the hands away. Giving the hands a quick squeeze, he exclaimed, "Lex!" 

Lex withdrew his hands immediately. Tucking them safely in his coat pockets, he wound his way around the sofa until he was standing beside Clark. Without a glance at Lana, he took the spot from which she was recently ousted. With his right leg curled up on the sofa arm, Lex balanced himself on his left leg as he drew his wool duster around him. Looking down at Clark, he flashed a small smile as he said, "Hey, Clark." 

The urge to reach out and just grab Lex was painfully intense. Somehow, Clark managed to resist it. Entranced by Lex's very presence, Clark mused, 'It feels like years, not just weeks since I last saw you.' 

A cry rang out, "Don't touch me!" 

Then, a tray of ceramic mugs smashed to the ground. Everyone in the cafe turned around at the same time and saw the same thing - Chris Bowen holding tightly onto Laura Lowell. Laura's face was contorted with anger and fear as she pushed back against Chris' chest. "Let go." 

Smiling smugly, Chris dug his fingers deeper into the soft flesh of Laura's arms. "Aww c'mon honey." 

Faster than a moment. Faster than even Clark. Marcus stood. Hopping on the sofa cushions, he jumped in a single fluid motion over the sofa back. Landing on his feet, he walked purposefully over to Chris. Within a few short strides, Marcus reached Chris. Towering over him by a good six inches, he made a powerful impression. Instantly, Chris loosened his hold on Laura's arms. Wriggling away from Chris, Laura stepped in front of Marcus and placed her hands flat against his chest. Pushing against Marcus' still advancing body, Laura said, "Marcus, don't. He's not worth it. Please. Marcus, he's just not worth it." 

Luckily for Chris, Laura got through. Slowly, by a manner of degrees, Marcus relaxed as he wound a tension filled arm around Laura's waist. Pulling Laura away from Chris and the other four football players sitting at the table, Marcus stood stiffly, glaring at Chris all the while. 

Unluckily for Chris, Clark followed closely behind Marcus. Unlike Marcus, he wasn't satisfied by Laura's release. He continued to advance until it was clear what he intended to do. Bringing up both hands, he charged into Chris. Shoving him back hard, Clark watched as Chris fell back onto his chair that broke beneath his weight, sending him sprawling across the floor. 

Looking up from the scraps of wood that were once a chair, Chris watched Clark take a step forward. Glancing over his shoulder, Chris called out, "Get this geek!" 

Four football players pressed forward, their red letterman jackets flashing as they surrounded Clark. From his vantage point on the floor, Chris laughed, "Hey, tough guy. You're not such tough shit now, are you?" 

Glancing about at the boys surrounding him, Clark stood silent. The only action he made was to widen his stance. 

"What's the matter, Kent? Cat got your tongue? Yeah, that's how it always is with you. Just like last year," taunted Chris as he slowly stood. 

"Shut up, Chris," said Clark in a low voice. 

With a short burst of cruel laughter, Chris continued, "Ooo, more big words from Clark Kent. You know what you are, Kent? You're all talk and no show. Yeah, you were all in Whitney's face when we came for you, but you didn't say a damn thing as we strung you up." 

"That does it!" 

Fearlessly, Lana entered the circle of football players. In her hand, she held Chloe's cell phone in a white-knuckled grip. Pointing at the cell phone, Lana threatened, "Get out of here now, Chris, and take the rest of them with you. Now, before I call 911 and have you all arrested." 

Stunned, it took a moment for Chris to respond. "You can't be serious. Lana, you're Whitney's girl. You wouldn't do that to us." 

Taking a cautious step toward Chris, Lana said, "Oh yeah? Think again. Go! Or, so help me God, I will call. Just guess what that'll do to your chances of playing in the homecoming game." 

Chris went pale. Taking a step back, he half-stumbled on the broken chair at his feet. Glancing around the room, Chris started giggling nervously. Motioning to the guys to back off, Chris managed another step backwards as he replied, "That's okay. We're leaving. No need to get crazy on us. We're just a little excited." 

Crossing her arms, Lana leaned back on her right leg. "Well, be excited someplace else." 

Putting up his hands, Chris backed away faster now. "Okay. Okay. Damn, Lang. You want to know something you were a lot easier to like when you just some pom-pom tossing princess." 

Looking around at the Talon's wide-eyed customers, Chris tugged on his jacket, and then turned toward the front doors, exiting in a huff. His football playing entourage followed closely behind. 

In their wake, laughter broke out throughout the cafe. 

In the midst of the din, Lana made her way to Laura. With an employer's concern, Lana placed her hand on Laura's shoulder and asked, "Are you okay?" 

Laura responded with a shy, bobbing nod. Snuggling closer to Marcus, she made no attempt to cover up her shock and fading traces of fear. 

Nodding, Lana looked at Marcus and asked, "Could you wait a few minutes to make sure Chris isn't still waiting out there and then take her home, please?" 

As a way of response, Marcus rubbed Laura's arm as he pulled her closer to him. Backing up, Marcus didn't stop until the back of the couch in which he once sat pressed against his lower back. Drawing Laura into a hug, Marcus wrapped his arms around her while never taking his eyes off of Lana. 

By the time Lana finished with Laura, Clark was already being tended. Beside him, Lex stared warily at his angry, tense body. Gently, he patted Clark on the back as he whispered, "Clark, relax. It's over." 

Not looking at Lex, Clark answered, "It's never over." 

From behind them, Chloe asked, "Clark? What was that they were saying about last year?" 

Clark flinched. 

Turning around suddenly, Lex looked Chloe dead in the eye and said, "Stop being a reporter for one fucking second." 

Turning his attention once again to Clark, Lex ignored Chloe's offended expression. In fact, he ignored all but Clark. Gently, but firmly, he tugged on one of Clark's arms until Clark followed him out of the Talon. 

Swiftly, Lex made his way to his silver Porsche. A minute later, he directed Clark into the passenger seat. Two minutes after that, Lex sped down the street. Through Smallville's quiet thoroughfares, they rode in silence. Along the way, they stole the occasional glance and made the flinching movements of muscles wanting to move, but did nothing and said not a word. Still, they drove on without conversation until the buildings fell away and the open tranquility of Smallville's country roads beckoned them onward. 

It was along one such lonely stretch of road that Lex pulled his car over. Turning off the engine, Lex braced himself before facing Clark, "Clark, this isn't like you. You're not the kind to pick a fight, especially with five guys." 

For a second, Clark quietly sat. Then, he looked at Lex and said, "What kind am I then?" 

Squinting, Lex sensed there was clearly more to the question than was readily apparent. Tilting his head to the right, Lex said, "You're a good guy, Clark. You're a white hat. You're always the one who does the right thing." 

Carefully, Lex watched as the hard lines of Clark's face softened. As Clark relaxed in his seat, he continued, "You're the kind that feels personally responsible for the bad things that happen around you." 

Slowly, Clark bowed his head. 

Encouraged, Lex persisted, "Your kind makes it up to the world for the rest of us being here." 

Startled, Clark met Lex's eyes. Reaching over, Clark stopped the next words from passing Lex's lips by pressing his fingertips against them. Leaning over, Clark exchanged his fingers for his lips. Clark's kiss was like a light breeze, refreshing and too quickly departed. As he pulled back, Lex stopped him. 

With his hands on opposite sides of Clark's face, Lex whispered, "Madness doesn't suit you, but that's where you're headed." 

Pulling away from Lex, Clark pressed his back against the car door. Slowly, he replied, "No, Lex. I just want it to stop. I don't want anyone else to go through that. I want to be the last one." 

Leaning forward, Lex spoke in a steady voice, "You can't do it all, Clark. You can't right every wrong. If you try, you'll find another crisis just takes the place of the one you just resolved." 

Shaking his head, Clark argued, "I can't believe that. There has to be a way." 

Narrowing his eyes, Lex asked, "Clark, what are you planning?" 

Clark looked directly into Lex's eyes and whispered, "Best you not know." 

\-- <{()}>\-- 

Homecoming Day 2002 

Reilly Field 

Planted in the midst of twenty foot diameter clearing stood a tattered scarecrow tied to a bent and rusted post. Twenty feet away from it, down a narrow row, crouched Clark Kent. Keenly, he listened for the slightest sound. Resolute, he waited for a sign of the trials to come. His knees muddied and his back sore, Clark kept his eye on the scarecrow and waited for a while more. 

In the distance, two trucks pulled to the side of the road on the edge of the cornfield. As the motors ceased, cheers rang out. Profane hoots and hollers filled the quiet night. Soon, the rustling of cornstalks and weak protests spoken by a terrified voice joined them. The cacophony grew louder with each passing second, finally erupting as six football players emerged from the corn. Wrestling helplessly against their superior strength, Brian Dimov screamed. 

"Shut the fuck up," said Chris as he pulled off one of his socks and proceeded to shove it into Brian's mouth. 

Grinning cruelly at Brian's humiliated expression, Chris looked around at the other jocks and announced, "Let the stripping begin." 

Cheers went up as the jocks started pulling at Brian's jacket and pants. The project so engrossed them that they never noticed Clark. With surprise on his side, Clark grabbed the collars of the two jocks restraining Brian. With quick actions, he flung them aside. Grabbing a hold of Brian, he pulled him free of the football players. Looking down at Brian's dazed eyes, Clark knew he couldn't get rid of Brian by saying "run" this time. At that moment, Clark resigned himself to exposing his abilities. It was a high price, but he was willing to pay if it would just stop this horrid ritual. Squaring his shoulders, Clark dragged Brian behind him as he backed away, buying time to formulate a plan of attack. 

After the initial shock wore off, Chris sneered, "You are quite a piece of work, Clark. I'll give you that, but I think you need to be taught a lesson." 

Looking around him, Chris raised his arms and asked, "What do you guys say? Think Clark here needs to be taught a lesson?" 

"Yeahs" erupted. 

Slowly, they encircled him. One by one until Clark was surrounded. As they inched closer, one by one, the jocks took a jab at Clark: 

"There aren't any girls around here to protect you this time, Kent." 

"Y'know, we don't usually have two scarecrows." 

"Don't have repeat victims either." 

Finally, Chris stepped forward and said, "But Clark, for you, we're going to make an exception. 

All at once, gunshots rang out. 

Everyone standing in the clearing looked around as the sharp pops echoed all around them. They stared open-mouthed as eight armed men emerged from the corn led by Lex Luthor. One by one, the men wearing dark suits aimed their guns at the six jocks and cocked their weapons. After giving the jocks a moment to comprehend the seriousness of the situation, Lex made his move. Walking across the uneven earth, Lex stopped beside Clark as he trained his pistol on Chris Bowen. Swiftly, Lex tilted his head toward Clark and said, "What did I tell you, Clark? Everyone makes exceptions." 

Looking over at an obese man to his left, Lex asked, "Your boys gonna have any trouble controlling these kids, Simon?" 

Laughing sarcastically, Simon replied, "What, these pussies? Just tell me where you want me to dump the bodies, Mr. Luthor." 

A shocked gasp left each football player. 

Amused, Lex turned and looked at Clark's surprised face. Laughing out loud, Lex asked, "You didn't really expect me to let you sit out here all by yourself, did you?" 

Smiling, Clark shook his head in disbelief. Looking at the trembling and partially soiled football players, Clark asked, "So, what now?" 

Tipping his head back, Lex pretended to be in deep thought. Looking at Chris, Lex smirked as he lowered his weapon. "You kids. Your fathers all work for me. Anyone hears about tonight and they're all fired. Got it?" 

Stricken with fear, Chris managed to nod. 

"Good," said Lex. 

Looking over at Simon, Lex ordered, "Simon, keep these punks here for the next 30 minutes then take off all their clothes and let their asses go." 

"As you wish, Mr. Luthor." 

As Lex reached the edge of the clearing, he looked over his shoulder and said, "I'm thinking this will be the last scarecrow." 

Pausing, Lex waited until he saw Chris' head frantically nod. Smiling, Lex turned away from Chris and all the other frantically nodding jocks. Patiently, he waited for Clark to catch up before making his exit. 

With an arm around Brian's shoulders, Clark led the terrified boy out of the cornfield. Lex all the while by his side. At the edge, Brian turned to them and said, "Thanks," then he ran away. 

After Brian was just a speck in the distance, Clark turned to Lex and said, "Thanks." 

Shrugging, Lex said, "Don't worry about it. I've told you before I'll do anything to protect a friend." 

In response, Clark smiled. Looking down one length of road and then turning his head and looking down the other long expanse, Clark brought his gaze to bear upon Lex and asked, "Where's your car?" 

"One mile down. Parked on a utility road," answered Lex. Seeing the shock in Clark's eyes, Lex continued, "Well, come on. It's a hike." 

\--<{()}>\-- 

Later That Night 

Route 90 

Just Before Hickory Lane 

"Do you want to come to my fortress?" asked Clark from the passenger seat. 

"Nah, I need to go collect Simon and his boys. I brought them to this town and I'm going to make sure they leave it, too," replied Lex. 

"All the way back to Metropolis?" inquired Clark. 

"Yeah," said Lex. 

"Will you be back soon?" 

Looking over at Clark, Lex arched an eyebrow. "Probably not for a while. Undoubtedly, my father has already heard about my bringing Simon out here. He's going to want answers and it will take time to come up with and execute a suitable lie." Shaking his head, Clark couldn't help but ask, "Why don't you just tell him the truth?" 

Looking in Clark's eyes, Lex said, "Because without the lies, without the games, what do my Father and I have?" 

Taking in the sadness in Clark's eyes, he said, "Go home, Clark. I'll see you later. I'll try to get back when I can. Like I said before the next couple weeks will be filled with scheming. By then, of course, the holidays will be upon us. I know it seems hard to believe, but even a family like mine has traditions. Of course, most of my family's traditions involve expensive Scotch and lavish, but politically important dinner parties." 

Nodding, Clark said, "Okay. Au revoir." 

Before leaving, Clark reached across the center console. Grabbing the lapels of Lex's coat, Clark pulled him over for a drawn out kiss. 


End file.
